Panamaniacs
by Red Witch
Summary: Another day, another international scandal that Mallory started.
**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters as run off with all my money! Just some real life drama I decided to insert in Archer's world. What if one of them was responsible? Hmmmm…. You'd get…**

 **Panamaniacs **

"Hey Cyril we have a serious problem here," Archer said as he walked into Cyril's office with a glass of scotch in his hand.

"Let me guess," Cyril sighed as he sat at his desk looking at his computer. "Is it the fact that we've been open less than a month without a single client?"

"No, not that…" Archer said.

"Is it the fact that this agency is running out of money?" Cyril asked.

"Not really," Archer shrugged.

"Is it because you still don't think your office is big enough?" Cyril rolled his eyes.

"It's practically a closet!" Archer barked. "But no we have a bigger problem."

"Is this about you bitching about how you have to work for me again?" Cyril asked. "Honestly I don't mind that conversation."

"This is a **serious** matter Cyril!" Archer snapped. "We're running out of scotch!"

"Okay let's circle back to the 'there's no clients and no money coming into this agency' remarks I made not even ten seconds ago…" Cyril groaned.

"I'm serious Cyril!" Archer protested.

"So am I!" Cyril snapped. "Archer we have no clients which means we have no income coming in! Which means we can't afford frivolities!"

"Scotch is not a frivolity!" Archer was shocked.

"Yeah it kind of is," Cyril rolled his eyes.

"Cyril this is a private detective agency! Alcohol and private detecting go hand in hand like…" Archer struggled to find words. "Something and something else!"

"I am not going to help you make up examples to win your pointless argument for you," Cyril groaned.

"It is not a pointless argument! It's an important one!" Archer protested. "Besides it's not like I'm the only one who drinks here!"

"I know," Cyril gave him a look. "Between you and your mother I bet the two of you are responsible for at least twelve percent of the liquor industries' economy!"

"Prohibition was outlawed Cyril!" Archer barked. "By not having any alcohol you are denying me my constitutional rights!"

"Then go out and buy your own damn scotch!" Cyril snapped.

"Wait since when is a detective agency a BYOB?" Archer was stunned. "If you weren't too busy getting off on porn…"

"It's **not** porn Archer!" Cyril pointed. "It's this new thing called **the news**! Maybe you've heard about it?"

"I've heard of Naked News," Archer admitted. "You're on Naked News am I right?"

"No Archer. This is plain old no porn regular online news!" Cyril snapped. "As the head of this detective agency I need to keep up with what's going on in the world!"

"Why?" Archer blinked. "My mother never concerned herself with stuff like that."

"Yeah and how did **that** end up for her?" Cyril snapped. "Huh? Refresh my memory on what happened to her old agency not once, but twice!"

"Wow," Archer blinked. "I just realized that you are really cranky when you're not getting any."

"This is not about me not getting any!" Cyril snapped.

"I mean I get that you're taking your so called job seriously…" Archer went on.

"It's a real job Archer!" Cyril yelled. "I am the **head** of this agency and it's a **real job!"**

"But to skimp on porn expenses? What porn is practically free right now!" Archer waved. "From what I've heard. Maybe I can help you find a good website?"

"No Archer I don't need your help!" Cyril snapped. "Besides I'm already in the middle of this fascinating article on the Panama Papers!"

"What the hell are the Panama Papers?" Archer asked. "Is that a new porn rag?"

"No, it is not a **porn rag!"** Cyril snapped.

"You know like the Thailand Times?" Archer went on. "The Nude York Daily Grind? The Washington Lamppost? Stripping in Stockholm? The Daily Bump and Grind? Britain's Bo-Dunk A Dunks? French Ooh La La's? Oh God Canada, Oh God!"

"Are you **done?"** Cyril gave him a look.

"Hang on," Archer held up a finger. "Bangkok Babes! That title says it all."

"The Panama Papers are **not** a porn rag! Basically it's a huge boatload of documents detailing how the rich and elite politicians of the world managed to hide their huge illegal tax breaks and money laundering from the public," Cyril told him. "It's fascinating."

"Maybe to a tax nerd like yourself," Archer snorted. "To me it's just blah, blah, blah…Rich getting richer. Lawyers getting richer. Everybody's pissed off at rich people and lawyers getting richer. It's the same old thing."

"Archer this scandal is the largest tax fraud case since they got Al Capone," Cyril said. "We're talking billions of dollars. Bernie Madoff big!"

"Meh…" Archer scoffed.

"World leaders and major players all over the world are implicated," Cyril told him. "The prime minister of Iceland resigned."

"Who cares?" Archer snorted.

"Major sports figures all over the world are involved," Cyril went on.

"Boring!" Archer rolled his eyes.

"FIFA…" Cyril added.

"Just another reason why I hate soccer," Archer shrugged.

"Even the Russian President is indicated," Cyril said.

"Oh a Russian leader who used to be part of the KGB is being dishonest," Archer scoffed. "Big shock!"

"There are literally millions of documents implicating a lot of wealthy and powerful people!" Cyril protested. "Including the passports of at least 200 Americans."

"Rich people always want to dodge the system," Archer remarked. "That's how the rich get richer."

Cyril read the news. "In all, 12 current or former heads of state are included in the legal records from Panama's Mossack Fonseca law firm. They were first leaked to the Sueddeutsche Zeitung newspaper based in Munich, Germany, and published Sunday by a consortium of news organizations around the world."

"Tell us more Mr. Peabody," Archer mocked.

"Apparently this whole investigation started because one of the American investors defrauded and bankrupted his account," Cyril read. "But they don't know who it is."

"It always takes one idiot to ruin it for everybody," Archer snorted as he took a drink.

"They only clue they have to this person's identity is his e-mail address he used," Cyril read. "I Hate Trudy Beekman Number One…"

That was when Archer did a spit take. "WHAT?"

"Well there's always a chance it's not her…" Cyril said weakly.

"That's the same chance that King Kong won't fall off the Empire State Building and die at the end of the movie!" Archer snapped. "But every single time…SPLAT! It was beauty that killed the beast!"

"It's her isn't it?" Cyril moaned.

"YOU THINK?" Archer snapped. "Wait if she has all this money why doesn't she supply the scotch?"

"Oh for crying out…" Cyril got up. "Come on!"

"To yell at my mother for something she did that was stupid?" Archer asked. "Actually that sounds like a dream come true for me." He followed Cyril.

"Where are you two going?" Lana said as they passed her and Ray in the hallway.

"Oh you know Lana," Archer quipped as they stopped to tell them. "Another day, another international scandal Mother created!"

"Who'd she kill this time?" Ray chuckled.

"For starters the political career of the Prime Minister of Iceland," Cyril remarked.

"Wait **what?"** Ray did a double take.

"And the soccer playing organization," Archer added. "But honestly that one I really don't care about."

"Not the Panama Papers thing?" Lana gasped. "Mallory is involved in the Panama Papers?"

"Oh dear god…" Ray groaned.

"Wait you all know about that?" Archer was stunned. "This is a _**thing?"**_

"Uh yeah it's all over the news!" Ray barked. "It is so a thing!"

"So people know about it?" Archer asked.

"It's a safe bet," Lana gave him a look.

"Ms. Archer!" Cyril shouted as he stormed off.

"This is going to be the adultery website scandal all over again isn't it?" Ray groaned.

"Looks like," Archer shrugged as they followed Cyril.

"Ms. Archer! Ms. Archer!" Cyril stormed into Mallory's office. "We need to talk!"

"Calm down Cyril!" Mallory sat at her desk. "Good God did Sterling steal your porn rags again?"

"First of all…" Cyril did a double take. "What do you mean by **again?"**

"Cyril focus," Lana sighed.

"Right. We have much bigger problems I want to talk about," Cyril took a deep breath.

"What?" Mallory asked in an annoyed tone. "What could you possibly want to talk to me about?"

"Oh so many things," Cyril said sarcastically. "The weather. How is Ron doing? Are you making new friends? Where the **hell did you get the money to help fund this agency?"**

"This should be good," Ray folded his arms.

"Not that it's any of your business…" Mallory sniffed.

"Yeah it kind of is," Cyril interrupted.

Mallory went on. "But I had to scrimp and use every last penny from an overseas account that I had to clear out in order to partially fund this broke ass boondoggle."

"Let me guess where," Lana sighed. "Panama?"

"How did you know that?" Mallory asked.

" **This** is how we know that!" Cyril took Mallory's computer and went to the article. "Read it!"

Mallory blinked. "Why would I care about ten secret ways to save money at Costco?"

"Not **that article**!" Cyril pointed. "The **other one!"**

"The one on the major tax corruption scandal called the Panama Papers," Ray prompted.

"The what?" Mallory took a look. "Oh that…That could be…Uh oh."

"What particularly drew my attention was the account that started it all," Cyril snapped.

"I Hate Trudy Beekman Number One Mother?" Archer snapped.

"Uh oh…" Mallory looked worried.

"Why didn't you just put your freaking name on it while you were at it?" Cyril snapped.

"That's not my account," Mallory said quickly.

"Really?" Cyril folded his arms. "Whose is it then?"

"It could be anyone on the co-op board," Mallory waved. "Trudy Beekman's daughter in law?"

"Mother!" Archer snapped.

"Oh all right it's me!" Mallory snapped.

"Well since you have all this money maybe you can use some of it to buy some alcohol around here?" Archer barked.

"Oh for God's sake Sterling!" Mallory snapped. "Can't you just bring in your own for once?"

"That's what I said!" Cyril snapped. "And now I'm asking what are we going to do about this?"

" **We** are going to do nothing," Mallory informed him. "I can fix this! Or at the very least not have our name be traced back to us."

"Yeah because having a detective agency funded by an illegal offshore account is just the sort of negative publicity we're trying to avoid!" Lana snapped.

"I still have one or two friends I've been saving for a rainy day," Mallory admitted as she went to get her phone.

"Well it's pouring now!" Cyril snapped. "In fact it's a freaking hurricane out there!"

"Seriously?" Archer looked out the window and into the sunshine.

"Metaphorically!" Cyril snapped.

"Oh right," Archer realized.

"Fine! I'll make the calls so we won't be traced," Mallory sighed. "Even though I'll have to use up the last of my dwindling favors!"

"Or you could just wait until **after** you're arrested," Ray quipped.

"He has a point Mother," Archer admitted.

"I'll handle it!" Mallory said as she got the phone. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

"Just handle it!" Cyril told her.

"I'm handling it!" Mallory snapped.

"We don't want this to be the adultery website again!" Lana told her.

"It's **not** going to be the adultery website again!" Mallory rolled her eyes.

"It better not be!" Ray said.

"Don't you have a dick to suck on?" Mallory snapped.

"I was going to ask you the **same question**!" Ray snapped back.

Mallory paused. "You have to actually **think** about that?" Archer shouted.

"Let's just say it might end up being a contingency plan," Mallory coughed.

"Oh dear God…" Cyril groaned.

"Cyril I'm handling it!" Mallory snapped. "Now get out!"

"You'd better handle this!" Cyril said as they left.

"I'm **handling** it!" Mallory snapped back. "Get out!"

"So you think she can handle it?" Archer asked as they left the office.

"Well this is Mallory so…" Lana sighed. "Odds are fifty-fifty."

"Fifty-fifty she makes it go away or that she goes up the river?" Ray asked.

"Both actually…" Lana admitted.

"Great our agency is involved in a scandal and we haven't even had our first client yet!" Cyril moaned.


End file.
